


Not Quite Out of Time.

by silver_sun



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e10 Out of Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Temporary Character Death - Jack Harkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1212259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_sun/pseuds/silver_sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jack didn't return with Mr Ellis and his car, Ianto gave up waiting and went to find them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite Out of Time.

The Hub was spotless. Any rubbish had been tidied up or thrown away, any outstanding filing completed, the pterodactyl and weevils had been fed and even the autopsy room had been cleaned. With nothing left to do, Ianto had paced the length of Jack’s office more times than he could count, nerves slowly getting the better of him.

It was the waiting that was the worse. Waiting for a call, waiting for the SUV’s tracking signal to move, waiting for anything that might indicate that Jack had managed to locate John Ellis and that he was on his way back to the Hub – but there was nothing.  
Time moved at a crawl, the hands on the old clock in the corner of Jack's office creeping slowly round its aged, yellowed dial, until Ianto was half convinced that there had to be some form time distortion going on. 

Finally as the clock stuck nine, Ianto could no longer justify even to himself that it was anything other than far too late to still be at work on Christmas Eve and he gave up waiting. Calling Jack had proved futile, his bluetooth connection to the Torchwood's secure network was switched off and his phone just rang until it finally went to voice mail. 

There was no way Ianto could just go home though, not without knowing what had happened, as he knew he'd just spend the whole of Christmas worrying about Jack, John and his car. Not to mention the fact that his front door key had been on the same key ring as his car keys – not that that would stop him from getting into his house if he really needed to. So after locking down the Hub for the night and leaving a message for Jack saying that he'd gone to find him, Ianto called a taxi. 

It took longer than Ianto would have liked for the taxi to arrive, but this late on Christmas Eve he really hadn't expected anything else. People had parties to go to after all, he thought. He didn't go to parties anymore, not since London, not since Lisa. The time and the inclination just wasn't there. He closed his eyes. The lights and atmosphere in London had been amazing, Christmas Eve in Trafalger Square, walking along the Embankment with Lisa, looking out at the Thames and the London Eye all lit up. 

Sighing, Ianto opened his eyes and looked at the bright, twinkling lights on Plas and by the Red Dragon shopping centre across the the road from the Millennium Centre. London seemed a million miles and a life time away rather than just a couple of hours on the train and little more than a year ago.

Shivering slightly, Ianto dug his hands into his pockets, wishing that he'd not left his gloves in his car that morning. The morning seemed almost as long ago as London did, not that he wanted to think about it and more than he wanted to acknowledge the lingering, nameless sense fear that had been steadily growing in four hours Jack had been gone. Even for Jack four hours was a long time to be gone without a word. Especially as Ianto had been fairly sure that Jack had been angling for a quick, pre-Christmas shag previous to John Ellis' theft of his car. 

The whole situation with Jack was about as confusing and fucked up as it got, Ianto was under no illusions about that. Despite that, there was still something real between them, affection and understanding born of the things they had seen and the knowledge of how bleak the world could be. And perhaps, in time, there would be love also. It was a vain hope, Ianto was sure, but it was hope none the less and these days he held fast to any little scrap of it he could find. 

Even if he loved Jack, which he was fairly sure he did, Ianto still hated how he ran around without backup and without letting anyone know where he was going. Hated that Jack seemed to think his apparent invulnerability meant that as he could do he pleased. Because he had noticed it, how could he not? He sorted out Jack's laundry and covered up CCTV footage for him after all. He hated that there seemed to be one rule for Jack and a different one for everybody else, but most of all Ianto hated the fact that Jack didn't let him or anyone else in, not really, and never when it really mattered. And it worried him, because one day he was sure, that his secrecy and disregard for their feelings and ability to understand was going to get one of them hurt or worse.

The taxi, with its driver who looked like he'd rather be doing anything else than working, eventually arrived and after the barest minimum of conversation, Ianto got the taxi to drop him off a street away from the SUV’s location. There was no sense, Ianto decided in allowing a member of the public to get too closely involved, especially when he didn't know what he’d find when he got there. 

It wasn't difficult to find the SUV, although it was with a growing sense of unease that he noted that it has been left unlocked and the lights left on. It wasn't like Jack to be so careless, Ianto thought as he secured it before hurrying over to the boarded up house that once, long ago, had been John Ellis’ home. 

All the boards across the door and windows were in still firmly place and Ianto was about to return to the SUV and give it a thorough search for clues, when he heard the faint sound of a car engine idling nearby. A brief search revealed an alley to the side of the house, which in turn lead to an old garage. Heart beating too fast, his mind racing at what he might find inside, Ianto wrenched the door open. 

Chokingly strong, thick fumes billowed out to meet him, and Ianto had to turn away, his eyes watering, coughing and retching as the overpowering smell of exhaust fumes got into his eyes and lungs. 

A moment later, still coughing, vision blurred through streaming eyes, Ianto made his way inside. It was with sick horror that he realised that car parked inside was own and that what had happened could in no way an accident. The pipe connected to exhaust that had been run in through the drivers side window could only mean one thing. 

Holding his sleeve over his nose and mouth he pulled the tubing from the car door. The fumes inside the car were stronger than inside the garage, and for a dizzying moment Ianto thought he was going to pass out as he leant inside and switched off the ignition. 

John Ellis was slumped in the drivers seat, his eyes closed, his expression strangely peaceful. Coughing and holding one hand ineffectually over his nose and mouth, Ianto felt for a pulse. The skin was already growing cold and he lets his fingers fall away, knowing that life had long since fled. Leaving John, he ran round to the other side of the car where Jack sat, deathly still in the passenger seat, hand clasped over John’s. 

Ianto wasted no time checking for a pulse, every second counted, he told himself, as he pulled Jack from the car. Jack was heavy, his coat tangling on the seatbelt and gearstick, as he dragged him free of the car and out into the small yard in front of the garage. 

Grateful that they were shielded from view any person walking by the narrow entrance to the alley, he knelt down beside Jack and pressed trembling fingers against his neck. It was as cold and lifeless as John’s.

Covering his mouth with his hand Ianto choked back as sob. He wanted to scream, to rage at the unfairness of it. He'd seen Jack recover from injuries in a matter of minutes, injuries that should have taken weeks to heal, but he had never seen him dead. Death was final, the end. Ianto has seen it too many times, seen friends and lovers dead and dying, held them in his arms as they left this life behind. Left him behind. He’d never thought that he’d have to do that with Jack. Jack who was always so very alive. 

Ianto’s wasn't sure if Jack had known that he knew about his ability to heal, because if Jack did he’d certainly never bothered to explain it to anyone. Rather he'd pretend that nothing odd had happened, deflecting any concerns with a joke. Not that it mattered now, nothing felt like it would matter ever again. 

Too shocked to move, minutes passed with Jack lying cold and lifeless on the ground next to him. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Ianto kissed Jack’s cheek, the skin cold and acrid from fumes. “Jack, why? Why didn't you tell me you were so unhappy?” 

Drawing a shuddering breath Ianto tried to calm himself as he closed Jack’s eyes. The dizziness was worse as he stood, but Ianto told himself he had to push through it. He had work to do after all. He had to get John out of the car and then dispose of the car somehow. Using again was an impossibility as far as Ianto was concerned. It would have been bad enough if it had been John Ellis dying in the there, but Jack... Ianto stopped, a silent sob shaking him. He couldn't use it again, not after tonight.

He was going to have to drive it to though to get rid of it, there really wasn't any other way and he’d got to dispose of John’s body as well and a produce a cover story, just as he'd done so many times before and would doubtless have to do numerous times again. Ianto rested his head against the top of the car door, stomach churning, sickness clawing at his throat. Stress at what he had to do, grief at what had happened or the cloying fumes he wasn't sure. There would be worse to come after staging John Ellis' death though, he reminded himself, far worse. He would have to call Gwen, Owen and Tosh and tell them all that Jack was gone. Had Jack had any family anywhere? Would he have to break the new to them that there would be an empty space at the table this Christmas?

Why hadn't he gone with Jack in the first place? Ianto thought as he lifted John from the car. Why hadn't he followed him when Jack had first switched of his Bluetooth? Some of the blame had to lie with his failure to make sure Jack was safe. The team would surely see it like that and right now he couldn't find fault with that reasoning. 

“Don’t suppose you’ve got an aspirin handy? My head’s killing me.” 

Ianto looked round from where he was dragging John Ellis into the yard to see Jack, deathly pale and shaking, but undoubtedly alive, leaning weakly against the wall. 

“You’re alive.” Ianto voice shook, his hands releasing John’s body as took an unsteady step towards Jack, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. “How? You were dead. Why?” 

“I couldn’t let him die alone.” Jack’s voice was hoarse. “He was afraid to live and afraid to die. I wanted…”

“To die?” Ianto asked, sudden anger flaring through him. “Why? Is your life really that bad?” 

Jack looked down. “I don't know what to say.”

“You could start with sorry. I thought you were dead, really, really dead. How could you let me find you like that? How could you?” It hurt to breathe, his chest tightening and aching. Leaning forwards Ianto, braced his hands against his knees, the dizziness worsening as he lifted his head to glare at Jack. “You knew you wouldn't die didn't you? and killed yourself in my car. How the hell do you think that makes me feel?” 

“I never meant for you to find me, didn’t think…” Jack put a hand on his shoulder.

“You never mean and you never think, do you?” Ianto stumbled away from him, unable to deal with Jack's weird alternating concern and secrecy. “You stupid, heartless bastard. It’s Christmas, I thought I was going to have to tell them you were dead. Some present that.” 

Jack gave him a look that could only be describe as fear. “You haven't...” 

Ianto shook his head. Which was, he decided a second later, a terrible decision, as the world seemed to spin and his legs buckled beneath him, pitching him forward against Jack. 

Jack's arms were round him in a flash, stopping him from falling any further. “Hey how long were you in there?” 

Ianto’s face was flushed from coughing as he blinked at Jack, everything starting to get decidedly fuzzy round the edges. He was still too angry at Jack to anything but snap back at him, “Not as long as you, obviously.” 

“Still too long though, I'm guessing.” Jack slipped his arms around Ianto’s waist and half walked, half carried him the short distant to the SUV. 

After pushing Ianto onto the back seat, Jack started rummaging through the storage compartments.

“What are you looking for?” Ianto asked closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the seat in front of him. Perhaps he could go to sleep now that Jack wasn't dead any more and he knew where his car was. Sleep would be good. He'd be able to face things with sleep.

“Oxygen,” Jack replied as something scattered across the floor as he pulled open another one of the storage compartments concealed within the SUV. “Where does Owen keep it?” 

“With first aid kit, think. I think. Why? Who needs it?” Ianto said, surprised as how slurred his voice sounded. He should sleep. Sleep was nice. He never got enough sleep.

There was a moments more rummaging, and then Jack said, “You.” As he pulled Ianto back into a sitting position and pressed a plastic mask over his nose and mouth. “Deep breathes and no falling asleep.”

The fogginess that seemed to have taken hold of his brain receded a little after a few minutes. Although Ianto was less than happy about it, as its replacement, a pounding headache and rolling waves of nausea made him want to curl into a ball and never move again in case his head exploded or his stomach crawled out of his mouth. And having worked for Torchwood visuals on how either of those things would look didn't have to be left to the imagination. Groaning, Ianto tried not to think about any of it, as that really would make him sick. 

“Any better?” Jack asked, still sounding rough himself. “Only I've got to move the SUV. You going to manage here without me?”

Ianto nodded using as little movement as possible. It seem safer than talking yet at least. 

Jack patted his shoulder then moved round to the drivers seat. It took a couple of attempts to get it into gear and longer still for Jack to successfully reverse it until the back of it was level with the mouth of the alley that lead to the garage, and Ianto could hear the weary frustration in Jack's voice and he muttered to himself to get it right. 

Eyes closed once again, Ianto heard Jack get out of the SUV and open the boot. He should probably offer to help, he told himself, as he realised what Jack was going to do. Moving without being horribly sick everywhere didn't seem like a viable option yet and it would hardly be fair to expect Jack to have to get him back to the SUV again as well as Mr Ellis' body. 

Ianto was still trying to get his frayed and uncooperative thoughts back into order when he felt the back of the SUV dip slightly as Jack placed the body in the boot. A moment later he felt it rock again as Jack stumbled against the side of the SUV as he tried to get back in. 

It was an effort to keep his eyes open, but Jack needed him to be conscious and thinking, Ianto decided. It would be horrible to leave John's body in the boot overnight, but neither of them was really in a state to drive back to the Hub or do all that would need doing. Crashing the SUV or accidentally causing a lockdown while trying to get into the Hub seemed like very real possibilities given their current states.  
So when Jack finally got back into the SUV and sat hunched and shivering in the drivers seat, Ianto said, “We should go to my house. It closest.”

There was no argument or contradiction from Jack, and a couple of minutes later Ianto saw the corner shop at the road where his flat was located come into sight. 

“Private parking space, nice,” Jack said, voice sounding flat and dull compared to his usual self, as they pulled into the gridded tarmac space by the side of the flats. The building that had once been a large, house of some successful industrialist back in the 19th century had been divided into six flats, the garden sold off in chunks and built over until all that was left was enough space to park a few cars. 

“Worth the extra,” Ianto replied, grateful that the SUV had stopped moving. Leaving John in the car still sat badly with him, but at least it was secure. After the business with the cannibals him and Tosh had overhauled the central locking and engine immobilisation system to include fingerprint recognition so short of very accurate cloning or somebody stealing their fingers it was never getting stolen or driven by anyone other than then ever again. 

“So where to now?” Jack asked leaning against the side of the SUV next to him one it was secured. 

“Third floor, flat six.” The stairs sounded like more than his legs could manage, but as there was no lift there really wasn't much of a choice unless they wanted to spend the night outside. He'd made it up there in worse states than he was now, Ianto told himself, and after a taking a moment to make sure he wasn't going to fall flat on his face once he started moving, he lead the way up to his flat. 

Feeling a little breathless and sick, Ianto leant against the wall as he tried to get the keys into the lock. Next to him Jack looked dead on his feet, which was, he decided an unfortunate analogy given resent events. 

After two more false attempts and Jack looking at him with an increasingly worried expression he finally managed to get the door open and let them into the flat. It wasn't as tidy as he would have liked it be, washing up from breakfast left in the sink, clothes drying over radiators and a bin that needed badly emptying were hardly visitor friendly, but he suspected that Jack would neither notice or care. 

Sitting or falling down onto the sofa, Ianto wasn't sure. He was just grateful to be off his feet and somewhere that he didn't have to move or do anything any time soon. He should probably try to talk to Jack about what happened or at least offer him a drink or something. There was probably something edible in the freezer too if he could find the energy to look, but he'd not got much in as he'd planned to be away over Christmas. 

“Do you mind if I take a shower?” Jack asked, leaning against the back of the sofa and looking round the small flat. 

“Go ahead, there's towels in there,” Ianto replied, tired past caring that the bathroom, in combination with the rest of the flat was untidy enough that it would probably ruin everyone's neat freak image of him. De-limescaling the shower head would always have to come second to preventing alien invasion. 

“Thanks. I really...” Jack stopped, seeming to have thought better of whatever it was that he was going to say. 

Leaning back on the sofa he closed his eyes, everything that had happened in the past hour or so rolling in front of them like a bad dream. How had he missed that Jack was so desperately unhappy? He'd been sleeping with him for the past few months, they spent just about every day together and most evenings as well. After Brynblaidd Jack had positively encouraged him to talk, even when he'd been sure it wouldn't help, Jack had persisted in trying to help him work through all the shit he'd been dealing with. And even though he hadn't wanted to admit it, it had, to some extent at least, helped. 

Had Jack wanted him to do the same? Had he wanted to ask him if he was okay? Why hadn't he? Why hadn't even once asked him if he needed help with anything other than work? Ianto rubbed his eyes. Nothing like nearly dying on Christmas Eve to make you an emotional mess, he thought trying to take a deep breath and not end up coughing. That was Torchwood for you though, guaranteed to fuck you up no matter what time of year. 

The cough thankfully didn't materialise and Ianto decided that perhaps if he slept, even for just a few minutes he'd be in a better state to talk to Jack. Jack needed his help more than he'd realised. And he would help him, he would not let Jack down. After losing Lisa, after everything that had happened he wasn't going to lose Jack, not if there was anything he could do about it. 

“I said no sleeping.”

Ianto opened his eyes enough to see Jack leaning against the sofa next to him. “I wasn't,” he mumbled, knowing it was a lie, but he didn't want to disappoint him. He frowned, could you disappoint somebody by going to sleep in you weren't both actually in the middle of something? 

“Well, don't,” Jack snapped. “Not until I'm sure.”

“Sure of what?”

“That I'm not going to lose you.”

“Oh.” The rawness in Jack's voice cut off any argument that Ianto was going to make. Turning so that he was looking at him properly he said, “You should probably come to bed with me then.”

The look on Jack's face was, Ianto decided, priceless, and he laughed before he could stop himself. The laugh rapidly became a cough, which descended into retching and gasping until tears ran down his face. Eventually it passed, and Ianto said weakly, “I really did mean to sleep.”

“I know,” Jack replied. “Well I think I did.” 

There was something disappointing in the fact that the first time he's managed to get Jack into his bed neither of them were up to doing anything, Ianto decided as he dumped his clothes into the washing bin. He'd decide tomorrow whether he could be bothered to get the stink of fumes out of them or if he should just get rid of them, not wanting the reminder of what had happened and what he'd found while wearing them. 

“Ianto,” Jack said, once they were both lying in bed, time stretching out awkwardly between them. “I’m sorry. I know it doesn't mean much. But I am really, really sorry you found me like that.”

“And I'm sorry too,” Ianto said, certain the he should be the one apologising. Rolling onto his side he look at Jack. “I like to think nothing happens in the Hub that I don't know about, that I know everything that's going on. I should have seen how unhappy you were, I should have done something.” 

“Not your fault,” Jack said hoarsely. “And there's nothing anyone can do. Nobody here on Earth.”

Lying so close that he could just reach out and touch him, Ianto could see how physically and emotionally drained Jack still looked, his eyes reddened from the fumes, and quite possibly, he realised, tears. “Jack, talk to me.” 

There was no laughter, no joking retort, he just looked numb, weary with the ages of the world as he said, “I can’t die.” The smile that accompanied it was incongruous and Ianto could see that it was only there to stop tears from falling. “I’ve tried…” He dragged a hand across his eyes and sighed. “I’m so tired.” 

Ianto hadn't expect to get the truth from him so easily or perhaps at all. The fact that Jack had finally opened up to him feeling equally as shocking as the revelation itself. There wasn't any solution to it or any comforting words that Ianto could think of that would actually help, and he knew they were both too exhausted to use sex as a means of comfort tonight. Ianto leant over and kissed him. “Then you should sleep.” 

“I can't.” Jack sat back up. “I should go.”

Being alone or attempting to drive where probably about two of most inadvisable things that Ianto could think of Jack doing at that moment. “Don't. Don't go.” 

“I don’t belong here,” he said sadly, eyes looking off at something that was far more distant and painful than the feature wallpaper that Ianto's landlady had decorated the opposite wall with. “I don't belong anywhere.” 

“Yes, you do.” Sitting up as well, Ianto put an arm around him. He could still smell under his own shampoo the faint scent fumes clinging to his damp hair, and it turned his stomach knowing how they'd got there. He could get past it, he told himself. When he was with Jack it always felt like he was able to do anything. He knew he shouldn’t be nervous about it, not after all the things that they'd done since start there not quite a relationship. That was about lust and loneliness, this was different, Jack was vulnerable tonight and that scared him. It wasn't a word he'd ever thought to use about him before, and feeling Jack trembling with exhaustion next to him Ianto wished that he still didn't. “You belong here.”

Jack looked like he was about to protest, so Ianto shook his head. “No, I don’t mean Cardiff. I don’t even mean Torchwood. I mean here.” He smiled nervously, feeling almost drunk, as filled with a strange mix of terrified and excited as ploughed on. “Here with me. If you’ll have me.”

It took Jack a few moment to answer and when he did his voice was less than steady. “I don’t know what to say. I won’t always be here, Ianto. I can’t promise you anything, not even tomorrow.” 

“Then don’t.” Ianto hoped his voice wasn’t shaking too much, he really didn’t need Jack to know how much the idea of losing him scared him. “Can’t we just have now? No past, no future, just this moment, where nothing else matters?”

Jack smiled at him wonder in his eyes. “You’re amazing, do you know that?”

“I try my best.” The smart and sophisticated look that Ianto was going for was ruined by a massive yawn. 

Jack managed a laugh that was almost approaching his old self for a moment and then kissed him. “Then I guess I'd better try as well.” 

Somewhere out in the city church bells chimed midnight, letting everybody know that Christmas Day was here. Looking at Jack, Ianto smiled. This Christmas could have been memorable for all the wrong kind of reasons, but at that moment he felt nothing but gladness. Even if he got no other gift that year he already had the very best present he could wish for – Jack safe and alive in his arms.


End file.
